Hot Chocolate and Grilled Cheese
by Animorphgirl
Summary: It's 1AM and Stephanie can't sleep. Morelli makes her a favorite snack from his childhood. CUPCAKE, of course.


Disclaimer: The characters and storyline from the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm borrowing them without her permission, but am not making any money from them. Please do not sure—I am a poor librarian, still living at home with my parents.

A BIG thank you to Julie for beta reading!

Warning: Reading this fic may result in a desire for a grilled cheese sandwich and/or hot chocolate with whipped cream.

It was 1:05AM, and I couldn't sleep. Morelli and I had gone to bed earlier that night after the usual takeout dinner from Pinos' and a couple of hours of TV. We'd had sex twice, which generally makes me extremely relaxed and good for my usual eight hours.

Not tonight.

It wasn't that there was something on my mind keeping me awake. Or that I had a sudden burst of energy and needed to be doing something. It was just that I couldn't fall asleep.

I'd been tossing and turning for the last couple of hours, trying to keep my fidgeting to a minimum to avoid waking Morelli. _He_ was sleeping like a log, wrapped up under the covers with his head peaking out. He looked so peaceful and so contented that I was beginning to think that I should sneak out to the guest room. If I kept fidgeting, it would only be a matter of time before he woke up. Not that he'd get angry—he'd probably suggest that we have more sex—but I felt strangely protective when I saw Morelli in sleep mode.

Trying to keep the noise to a minimum, I turned to my left side, then my right, then my left again. I heard a sound next to me, and mentally cursed myself for moving around so much. One eye opened, which somehow reminded me of the Cyclops monster.

"Hi," I said sheepishly.

He responded with an eye roll. Usually, that was my job, but I let it go.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, pulling me close to him.

I shook my head miserably. "It's not my fault!" I complained.

He laughed. "How about sex?"

An eye roll on my part. The second time we'd made love had been an hour ago, after Morelli had woken up to go to the bathroom and had seen that I was still awake. I'd been more than willing, figuring that the usual feelings of contentment and relaxation which followed would put me to sleep in a matter of minutes. Not that time. Morelli had passed out immediately, and while I'd felt sleepy for about twenty minutes, it was quickly replaced by worry about not being able to fall asleep.

This time, I really did roll my eyes. "That didn't work an hour ago. I don't think it's gonna work now."

"You never know…" He was smiling, but then a yawn took over, and I knew that Morelli was probably glad I'd said no. Or, at least, not entirely disappointed. "Anything wrong, Cupcake?"

I shook my head. "I just can't fall asleep," I whined, aware of the fact that I sounded like a child.

Morelli sat up and began to stroke my hair. That was relaxing, but not enough to make sleep take over. Five minutes later, I reluctantly moved away from his embrace.

"I'll sleep in the guest room."

Morelli hid another yawn. "I have another idea."

He lifted me off the bed and took me downstairs. Set me down on the couch in the living room.

"I've been banished to the couch?" I half complained, taking one of the throw blankets and wrapping it around my legs. "I wasn't _that_ loud."

Morelli ruffled my hair. "I was going to make you a snack, Cupcake."

My stomach growled at the mention of food. "What kind of snack?"

Morelli smiled at me and adjusted the blanket so that it covered my feet as well as my legs. "Wait and see."

He headed into the kitchen, and I spread myself out on the couch, thinking that if I fell asleep there, Morelli could forego the snack and get at least four hours of sleep. Guilt washed over me. I should have just gotten up and slept in the guest room.

Ten minutes later, I was still awake and Morelli was carrying a tray with a plate and a large mug. I couldn't tell what it was right away, but it smelled delicious. My stomach growled again.

Morelli set the tray on top of my legs, and I peered down at the contents. A grilled cheese sandwich, with bits of burnt cheese oozing out of the sides. The mug contained hot chocolate, loaded with whipped cream.

I tasted the hot chocolate and, after burning my tongue, decided to eat the sandwich first. It was delicious. The bread was crunchy and toasty, cooked just under burning. The cheese was soft and fluffy, except the parts that were burnt to crisp perfection. There was a hint of spice—probably cinnamon. You wouldn't think of putting cinnamon on a grilled cheese sandwich, but it tasted amazing. The sweet spice blended in with the melted cheese and toasted bread perfectly. I ate the sandwich slowly, wanting to make it last as long as possible.

The hot chocolate had cooled from scalding hot to deliciously warm. Piled of whipped cream covered the liquid and created several inches of foam. I wanted to savor every mouthful, but the beverage was gone before I'd given it its appropriate appreciation. I held the cup up to my lips in hopes of capturing a few drops that had clung to the mug. Once even those were gone, I put my mug down reluctantly, and looked up at Joe.

He placed the tray on the table next to the couch, grinning. "Good?"

"Beyond good," I replied. "Thank you."

Strangely enough, I was starting to feel tired. Not just relaxed tired, but like I could sleep for the rest of the night without interruption. Sensing this, Morelli put another arm around me and lifted me from the couch, blanket and all.

"Where'd you think of that as a way to cure insomnia?" I prodded, not bothering to hide a yawn.

He laughed. "My mom, actually. She'd make us grilled cheese sandwiches and hot chocolate if we couldn't fall asleep." Pause. "Or if we had a nightmare," he remembered.

I rested my head against his chest. "It works."

I felt myself being placed on the bed. Morelli brushed a piece of hair out of my face. "It's a family secret. Mom got it from Grandma Bella."

Okay, then there was _one_ nice thing about Morelli's crazy grandmother.

Maybe.

Then again, I wasn't sure how I felt being put to sleep by one of her concoctions. Even if she got it from her mother.

It was too late to think about that.

I felt the covers fall over my chin, and then Morelli was holding me again, pressing me towards his chest. I nestled against him and my eyes closed involuntarily.

When I opened my eyes again, it was morning, and Morelli was still sleeping next to me. I was about to wake him, warn him that he'd overslept, when I remembered that it was Saturday. Instead, I reached over and pulled the drooping covers over him before going back to sleep.


End file.
